America: Land of the Free, Home of the Powerthirst
by GULLINBURSTI
Summary: Although he doesn't understand why he has enemies, America has realized that in order to display his Heroic status to the world, something needs to be done. Luckily, that's what sponsorship is for. One-shot.


**America: Land of the Free, Home of the Powerthirst**

America was an _idiot. _It was one thing to call the Allies together for an "emergency conference," without any formal explanation (let alone notice), but another all together to be late to such a self-imposed ordeal. England, annoyed, beat his fingertips against the long table as he wondered where the cocky man had learned to be so tactless—certainly not from him. The irritable blonde couldn't help but feel almost _embarrassed_ to know that he was the one who had raised America from a newborn.

France and China seemed just as displeased by the missing member of the council…in fact, one might say they retained a hint of anxiety in their features. America to be late…what could he possibly be planning? It better not be another far-fetched scheme like painting Mt. Fuji red. As for Russia…well, he always looked like he was enjoying himself. The rest knew better than that by now. The tall man was probably plotting America's vicious slaughter as they sat.

Letting out a sigh, England leaned forward, pushing his palms on the edge of his table in motion to stand. "Well…" he started, all too ready to call off the ridiculous meeting before it even began. Of course, his sentence was never to be finished. As soon as he had opened his mouth, America seemed to take his cue to burst into the room as loudly as possible, the door slamming against the wall as he opened it with vigor, laughing in his usual, obnoxious way and waving something triumphantly above his head.

"I've got it!" He cheered, "a sure-fire way to—"

"Listen here, you git!" England snapped, interrupting the younger male right back, "where the hell do you get off—"

"The support must never question the hero!" Countered America, still grinning wildly as he bounced across the room to grab a small television that sat on a wheeled stand, which had been standing in the corner, with his free hand and pull it to the front of the table. Turning it on, he opened the small package he had brought with him, revealing a videotape.

"That's it?" England hissed, his thick eyebrows narrowing over his green eyes in outrage, fists clenching at his sides. "You brought us here _at this hour_ to watch a _movie_?"

France ran a hand through his carefully groomed hair, sighing loudly as he sat back in his chair, eyes closed. "It better be porn—"

"I could bring some snacks if it's a full-length feature," China offered, small smile on his face as he tried to remain, as usual, in a semblance of calm, at least. Both he, as well as the infamous sexual deviant, continued to be overall ignored by the fuming gentleman and over-excited latecomer. Russia simply sat near the end of the table, still smiling ever so sweetly. If the others weren't so occupied, they'd probably feel his haunting façade searing into their backs.

"As I was saying!" Explained America as he pushed the tape into the insertion flap of the VCR, "this is just what we need! We'll air this internationally and I'll become the greatest hero ever known!"

England scoffed as America pressed play and the screen jumped to life.

* * *

_HEY, _came America's exuberant cry from the screen along with the image of the charismatic blonde standing with a large can in his hand, _DO YOU WANT TO FEEL AS ENERGETIC AS A FANTASITC AMERICAN HERO?_ Holding the can painfully close to the camera (unwisely displaying the fine print of the warning label, allowing the audience to clearly read the seizure precaution), he loudly advertised, _TRY AMERITHIRST, AN ENERGY DRINK FOR NON-HEROES WHO NEED GRATUITOUS AMOUNTS OF ENERGY._

Suddenly, the scene changed, and America stood in the middle of a (very much fake, as one could see a member of the film crew with a hose and a flashlight while making thunder-like sounds) downpour, umbrella in one hand, much larger than necessary chocolate bar in the other hand (which he took generous bites of as he spoke), and adorned in a lab coat.

…_munchmunchmunch…OLATE…munchmunchmunch…_ he could be heard spitting out between bites, _munchmunchmunch…CHOCOLATE…munchmunchmunch…SO SHOCKING…munchmunchmunch …LIKE LIGHTENING! …munchmunchmunch …SCIENCE! _

Gulping down a final bite, America threw the rest of the chocolate behind him to continue his explanation with further clarity. _YOU'LL BECOME SO SCIENTIFIC YOU'LL UNDERSTAND TERMS LIKE ELECTROLYTES BECAUSE YOU'LL BE A REAL AMERICAN SCIENCE HERO! YOU'LL BE SO UNCOMFORTABLY FULL OF SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE YOU'LL DISCOVER SCIENCE THAT DOESN'T EVEN EXIST, LIKE AMERICALYTES!_

_

* * *

  
_

America-_lytes_? _Really?_ England couldn't believe the complete load of bollocks he was currently being subjected to. Sure, he knew that America could be the bloodiest divvy that he'd ever encountered...but _this _just took the cake for moronic. The younger blonde had possibly lowered himself even below _France _in England's internal "people of competence" list. He couldn't turn the rubbish off fast enough. Jumping out of his seat, the man practically lunged forward in his attempt to press the stop button.

"America…you…" England hissed in utter disgust, his eyes closed as he fondly absorbed the newfound silence. "YOU _IDI_—"

"Genius, I know!" America laughed heartily, beaming like a kid who had just learned how to tie his shoelaces. "I was reading about marketing techniques, and television is the best way to put your name in a place where everyone will see it! I knew you'd all love it—just look at the others! They're so overwhelmed with adoration for my commercial that they're speechless!"

Well, he had gotten the speechless part right, at least. Even China had gone pale as they stared at the blank screen with total lack of comprehension to what they had just witnessed (and let's just not talk about Russia).

"Anyway, sit down!" The loud individual demanded, simultaneously taking England's shoulders and shoving him back into his seat. "The best part's coming up!"

England was powerless to stop the hateful electronic contraption from screaming back to its frantic activity.

* * *

…_SPORTS!_

The scene had changed at some point before the tape had resumed play, and now America, adorned in his usual clothes once more, was standing in a position that overlooked the Olympic Stadium in Greece. Greece, in question, stood casually behind America, watching the set-up with a sleepy sort of confusion and casual smile. Even farther in the background, unbeknownst to the other two (or at least America, it was debatable whether or not Greece even cared), a stark naked France was being dragged off by a police officer (naturally, censored where appropriate, as the film editors seemed to be more observant than the hero gone promotional actor) as he cried out the injustices committed against beauty and love.

Javelin in hand, America promised _WITH AMERITHIRST, YOU'LL HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY, YOU'LL BE JUST LIKE A GOLD-METAL WINNING AMERICAN HERO COMPETING IN THE OLYMPICS! IN FACT, YOU'LL DO EVERYTHING LIKE AN AMERICAN! _Dropping the athletic tool, the blonde bolted, causing the camera to turn wildly to keep up and practically knocking the sound technician off of his latter.

The picture cut out for a split second, but when the picture resumed, America could be seen with reddened cheeks, huffing from his sporadic dash, hands on his knees. _YOU'LL…_he gasped, having a bit of trouble catching his breath. It didn't take him long to regain his former vigor, however, and, proudly displaying the item in question, began again. _YOU'LL RUN LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, SLEEP LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, CLEAN LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, EAT LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, LAUGH LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, AND SPAWN BABIES LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO!_

Laughing, the spokesperson repeated, _THAT'S RIGHT, BABIES! DON'T BE LIKE A THIRD-WORLD COUNTRY! WITH AMERITHIRST, YOU CAN BE JUST LIKE AN AMERICAN HERO, WHO COULD EASILY, AND LEGALLY, HAVE FOUR-HUNDRED BABIES! SOME MIGHT CALL IT OVERPOPULATION, BUT I CALL IT THE AMERICAN WAY!_

Popping open the hole in the lid of the can, the speedy blonde quickly downed the entirety of the contents, making a show to let out a satisfied breath, wipe his mouth on his sleeve, and crush the aluminum in his grip. _GO WITH THE SURE THING—BE A REAL AMERICAN HERO WITH AMERITHIRST: THE ENERGY DRINK FOR HEROES! _

_

* * *

  
_

It was over. That had to have been the longest couple minutes in England's life. Earlier, he had felt sick, insulted, confused, and outraged. Now…now he just felt empty. It was as if something in his mind had actually _broken _during the course of the short film (probably after he had nearly seen a fully-exposed France). America's idiotic laugh still rang through his ears as if he were standing in a bell tower, and he had to close his mouth as soon as he had opened it, truly speechless. France and China wore similar expressions (France being a bit more scarlet from finding that his shame had been caught on camera). However, then something happened to catch everyone, even America, who had been hollowly boasting his greatness as an actor and businessman, off guard.

Russia _clapped._

Somewhat nervously, America pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You like it, Russia? I think the effects were high end, myself—"

Giving a small laugh, Russia stood, his characteristically sweet smile never once fading. Looking directly at America, he interrupted, "Not at all. Actually, I'm just looking forward to seeing you being hunted down by all of the people you will have no doubt insulted by airing this piece of garbage. I'm sure there will be lots of blood…"

_Everyone _gulped; their eyes were fixed in terror on the tall, scarf-clad man. A bead of sweat ran down the side of America's face. Nobody wanted to be the first to make a move.

_SLAM. _

The door burst open, a young man with shoulder-length blonde hair, glasses, and an expressionless polar bear, panting in the opening. "Sorry I'm late…" he apologized frantically, not seeming to notice that he was being completely ignored. "I ran into Cuba, and there was a bit of a misunderstanding…"

None of the Allies turned to look at him.

The polar bear looked up from where the overlooked blonde had him tucked safely under his elbow. Examining the man's face, the animal quietly inquired: "who are you?"

* * *

Disclaimer Time!

Oh dear God I feel** really** stupid right now. PLEASE don't take this seriously. Like my last short, this is completely for fun. If you want to get critical about the whole "Powerthirst" thing, the reason why I cut out a bunch (like the whole thing about Kenya), was because I didn't want to make this a carbon copy. I mean, I could have just copied and pasted the Powerthirst script and added in America's name here and there...but that isn't really that funny. It's just kind of cheap. I wanted to make this AMERICA'S commercial. Just think of it as inspired BY Powerthirst, and based closely off of it.

If you want to give me a solid critique on this, please focus on the quality of the writing. Otherwise, I sincerely hope that you enjoyed this, and got a nice laugh out of it. PLEASE, if you liked it, I would LOVE it if you left a comment. Seeing new reviews really just make my day. 3

Naturally, I don't own any of the Hetalia characters, nor Powerthirst.

And yes, we're assuming that this is in a setting where color television and energy drinks exist. My excuse for why he called the Allies specifically and nobody else? Um...America is a lazy spazz who does whatever the hell he wants?


End file.
